


An Amalgamation

by Iyearnforaplotadvancement



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse), Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies), Frozen (2013), Guardians of the Galaxy (Movies), Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: Adventure, Alternate Universes, Gen, One Shot Collection, Pilots, Romance, no crossover
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2020-01-23 19:19:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,204
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18556141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Iyearnforaplotadvancement/pseuds/Iyearnforaplotadvancement
Summary: A series of one-shots, story "pilots", and odds and ends in one story. No cross-overs, every chapter is stand alone. Multi-fandom, will update tags as developed.





	1. Elsa and Hans

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys, this a new little thing I made for my fics. Every chapter is self contained, one fandom only. Every chapter is a just a one off I wrote that are either beginnings or excerpts from stories I wanted to write. If you like a particular one, let me know and I just might do a fic about it. 
> 
> Chapter one is what my take to a sequel to Frozen would be like. Please enjoy. I really liked the Elsa/Hans ship and enjoy writing for Hans and Elsa interactions.

“You're alive, because of me.”

“Good so I finally have someone to blame.” The Northern Queen regarded Hans- The Would Be Murderer- with disdain. But moreover, she regarded him with dull surprise. He was a mess, as she’d been warned. But Elsa knew how to deal with messes. Anna had told her not to see him, but she needed to. She needed the closure.

“He tried to kill me,” Anna said, “and I'm not looking for closure.”

“Well, I am. Now would you please sit down, we're in a moving carriage.” Elsa said, chastising her younger sister.

The conversation was faint in her head now, but she didn't let face the most important part; him.

“I hope you didn't come all the way here just to stare at me,” Hans quipped, brushing his slightly longer hair from his eyes. “I'm good looking, but let's be honest I'm not that good looking.”

Elsa scowled, “No, you're not,” she affirmed.

Hans rolled his shoulders, his features settling into a sneer fit for a king. “So what do you want?”

“Just wanted to...see you. To reconcile the man I met and the one sitting here in front of me,” Elsa said, softly.

“Poetic.” Hans said, dully. “Do you have writers now, or-.” Elsa stood suddenly. Against the dark, hardie colors of the library where they were confined, Elsa stood, a stark contrast to the earthly,bold colors. She placed her hand straight out, palm down over Hans’s head.

Hans raised a brow at her, “Um, what are you do-,”

“Hans of The Southern Isles, I, Queen Elsa of Arendelle, pardon you.” She withdrew her hand and looked into his eyes. Then with a content nod, turned and left. Hans watched her walk away; confused and speechless, but only for a moment.

“Wait, where are you going? What did you pardon me of? Attempted murder? Elsa. _Elsa_. Ugh- _Your Majesty,_ ”

The doors of the library opened, Elsa floated out into the hall and disappeared behind them.

* * *

 

Anna waited for Elsa on the docks of Arendelle, as she had for the last week. She would wander out to the water after dinner and sit there waiting for the ship to pull in. She'd done this for her mother and father when they’d traveled. Dutifully she’d wait up for then. She’d fight sleep and often the cold, knowing that seeing her parents pull into port would make the discomfort worth it. Her memories of being fifteen and orphaned swam to the surface and darted back down into the depths of her mind as the fish did in the fjord. Anna swallowed the lump in her throat and breathed out slowly. Her hands trembled and she shook them, desperately trying to dissipate the nervous energy. Elsa would return home.

Anna repeated the words in her head, a mantra. Elsa would return home.

And she would be there to welcome her.

* * *

 

The sunlight filtered through the porous, pastel blue curtains. Off in the distance the waves crashed against the rocky shore and a seagull crooned as the damp sea air floated in. Elsa woke, the sun brightened the room as it climbed higher and higher in the sky. The air warmed and clung to her skin, moistening her skin. She hated The Southern Isles. Stretching, she inhaled the wettish air and ran a hand through her platinum locks. A few more hours, a few more and she would be back in her homelands, breathing in colder, dryer air. She rose from bed and primed herself for the morning. Garments were packed for her, despite her protests. As a queen, her servants- specifically Gerda- thought she should use Arendelle’s traditional wear. It was goo

d for representation of her country. But the individual inside her preferred her clothes made by her own hand. The kind of gowns that represented the queen she'd grown into. But by being that queen, she knew she had to make certain sacrifices and if wardrobe was the hardest thing she'd ever have to let go of, she'd willing wear Arendellian clothes, forever if she’d have to. A summer dress, long sleeved and breathable was pulled from a chest.

Elsa looked upon its vibrant blue fabric. Sunflower rosemaling, detailed in gold and black adorned the hemline of the skirt and briefly reminded her about Anna's birthday. It was one of the reasons she chose it, as it reminded her of her sister and made the distance hurt a little less.

As expected, Gerda and a younger handmaid knocked on her door. She greeted them with a nod of her head and a smile and let them into the room. Gerda took to the dress, smiling brightly at it. The younger handmaid-who Elsa came to know as, Sigrid-followed in Gerda’s wake, preparing Elsa’s undergarments. The queen's mind wandered as the women dressed her.

“...-sent a letter. She's eager to see you return, your highness.” said Gerda softly.

Elsa blinked, turning to look at the older woman. “Who?”

“Your sister, My queen. Princess Anna misses you.” Gerda replied.

“I miss her too.” Elsa said, “I wish I could fly instead of this ice. Then I could be home before I knew it.”

A soft snort came from Sigrid and Elsa smiled.

“Is that funny to you?” asked Elsa frigidly.

Sigrid went pale and shook her head furiously, “No, your Grace, I was merely-.”

Elsa hushed the girl, amused. “It's just a joke.” Sigrid breathed a sigh of relief and started to fasten the dress in the back.

Elsa looked at her with a certain fondness as a teacher has over a pupil. Sigrid was new, having taken over the position her mother had years before her. She was technically Anna’s handmaid, as her mother was. But Anna's energy and Sigrid’s timid demeanor made them a rather incompatible match. Elsa needed not another handmaid, but she knew if she left the two alone in Arendelle, surely they’d drive each other insane.

That wasn't to say the girls didn't like each other, on the contrary, they often laughed and enjoyed each other's company. But Sigrid often was the fuel to Anna’s fire. Supposed Anna had thought Elsa perished at sea, Sigrid could only offer horrible ways the queen could have died on the water.

Taking her had been a necessary part to keeping the peace, just as seeing The Westerguard Murderer had been.

At that point in her life, Elsa had lived a whole year without having to bother with Hans. But suddenly, for almost no reason at all, she had thought of him.

It was on a long walk, looking at the wild flowers that Elsa had seen a glimpse of red, running through the dark green, tall grass. The memory of her coronation floated to the surface, and with it Hans. She’d had nightmares in the months following the coronation, of that damp, frigid cell. The bindings on her hands were tight and heavy, but not as tight and heavy as the feeling she had in her chest. Looking over Arendelle, frozen, desolate…

She was lucky enough to never see him in her dreams. One less monster to fear, she supposed. But what had prompted the trip to The Southern Isles was a matter of diplomacy and not at all an intense therapy session. That's what the young Queen reminded herself.

She was here to shake hands with King Enoch-Hans’s eldest brother- assure him things were all okay, and that Hans would not be killed by the Kingdom of Arendelle, without proper protocol because that would be reason to go to war. Easy, simple, clean….

Except, it just wasn't. She had every right to kill Hans. Had every means to. She could find new and creative ways to torture and maim him. She could let it go on for years, if she wanted. But she couldn't. She was The Snow Queen of the North. And though her name suggested a cold, calculating woman, she was anything but. As bad as Hans was, she knew deep down, she couldn't harm him. She could- and would- punish him to the fullest extent of the law, but she would spare the youngest of The Westerguard Brothers.

Truthfully, what had bothered her the most was his own family’s behavior towards him.

“Hang him dead,” was all that had passed from the lips of Erik, Hans’s second oldest brother, who was also the supreme authority of the court.

Elsa remembered feeling colder than she normally was.

From across the long table, King Enoch stroked his beard and seemed to consider the possibility. Elsa cleared her throat nervously and willed the ice forming under her seat to disappear.

Bjorn, the Chief of Trades and the third oldest, nodded to Elsa, “Would that be agreeable, Your Majesty?”

Elsa swallowed the lump in her throat, “I...I’d like to hear what King Enoch proposes,”.

At this Enoch grinned, a look that was passed on to all the children by the late King Oskar. Enoch cracked his knuckles and settled into his chair. “My Queen, my brother has committed treason against your fair kingdom. I see only that you bestow the punishment. Be it death...or otherwise.”

The rest of the table, filled with the other brothers, hummed in agreement. Elsa looked into the eyes of the brothers and saw nothing but bloodlust. Apparently, Hans was not the favorite.

She had left that meeting hollow, bereft of any kind of thought.

His own family was going to tear him apart. Darkly she thought the worst punishment would be leaving him at home. But what shook her to her core had been Hans’s mother, Dowager Queen Amelie.

Hans’s brothers had all been from three main women, which the king had loved then beheaded in the favor of the next one. Hans’s mother was spared the same fate simply because her husband had died before she had. The woman had soft green eyes as Hans had and a tired demeanor. She was younger than Elsa’s mother by a decade and frail. Crying, she fell to her knees and begged the queen to spare her boy. “Please, Your Grace, he's the only of my little ones that lived. Please spare him for me,” The Snow Queen’s stomach wrenched as the queen blubbered and sobbed into the hem of her dress. And at that moment, Elsa knew that Hans’s mother had been a peasant.

“Finished, Your Grace,” Gerda said, chipperly. “Shall we announce your arrival to breakfast?”

“Um, no. Gerda, could you summon Dowager Amelie for me? I'd like to speak with her once more before our departure this afternoon,”

“Very good, My Queen,” Gerda and Sigrid bowed, exiting the room. Elsa stood looking out over the ocean, letting the dread of what she was going to do sink in Just a few more hours.

* * *

 

“So your plan was to Shang-Hai me and lock me up in Arendelle?” Hans asked, through the bars of his cell.

“Yes. Now you can take the drug, we can transport you while you're unconscious. Or, you can _not_ be yourself, put on these nice clothes, and walk up the gang-board like you're not an awful person,” Elsa said, gesturing to the folded clothes in her hand or the vial of sleeping drugs. Hans’s eyes drifted towards the clothes and Elsa took it as a good sign.

“Okay, one, it's ‘gang plank’. Two, how do I know you're not going to keelhaul me once we get out to open water?”

“I promised your mother I wouldn't do...whatever you just said,” Elsa said with a vague wave of her hands.

“Then why the sleeping concoction?”

“If I told you, ‘Hey Hans, let's go home to Arendelle, I'm not going to kill you’ you wouldn't believe me. Likely you'd start a fight,” Elsa stated.

Hans grinned, “Smart girl,”

“That's ‘queen’ to you peasant,”

Hans feigned fear, “Goodness me, forgive my ignorance,”

Elsa rolled her eyes, “Our ship is leaving, with or without you, Hans,”

Hans sucked his teeth, “That's a Mallard Quarter, it's going to take another half hour, at least to get the sails in the right position,”

“How did you-,” Hans pointed to a window, overlooking the docks. Elsa’s brows raised in dull surprise, “Not sure how I ever missed that,”

“I don't think it needs to be said, but I will because my voice is heavenly. I was a sailor. An actual sailor. Not some pretty boy with a career Daddy bought,” Hans said with mild pride. “Anyways, I served on a Mallard for four years on my youth,”

Elsa stored the fact for later. “Well then you know how much time you have to make a decision,” she started. Hans made a gesture with his hands, “You don't have to threaten me, Your Highness. I'll come. Not like there's much left for me to loose,”

* * *

 

“There's a great deal for me to loose,” Hans said, chained to the dining table. “I change my mind, throw me overboard. Let me drown,”

Elsa, very loudly and sharply, snorted. “Too late for that,”

“A butler? Really, Elsa? A damn servant? I'd rather die a criminal,” Hans seethed, “A servant. I'm to spend the rest of my days scrubbing pots and shoveling horse shit,”

At this, The Queen scoffed. “You're getting awfully worked up over this,”

Hans glared, “You're getting awfully worked up over this,” he mocked in a shrill falsetto. Elsa would have laughed if she wasn't so annoyed. Perhaps she should've chosen to tell Hans her plan while he was still in the cell in his homeland. Because, as she saw it now, he was ruining dinner. A bodyguard tensed as Hans raved. Elsa shook her head softly, letting the convict continue his rant.

Hans waved shook his fists, rattling the chains attached to them. “Ugh, leave me with my brothers. At least then if die with some dignity.”

At this, Elsa rose sharply, “You should be grateful I'm keeping you alive,” she said.

Hans sat back in his chair, regarding her with a placid expression. “Well, here’s another thing, Your Highness, you're not going to kill me either. As you stated, my mother asked you not to,”

“Well-then h-how do you know I won't change my mind?” Elsa stuttered. Hans smirked and Elsa had the notion that she should be seeing that trademark smirk a lot more.

“You don't have killer in you, Your Majesty,” he said simply, “It's in your eyes.” Elsa brushed him off, but Hans pressed on. “It takes an awful lot of self confidence to kill someone. Don't let anyone ever tell you it takes courage. I've seen my fair share cowards take a man's life,” Hans shook his head, his hands rested in his lap. “Self-confidence, My Queen, is something you're in dire need of,”

Elsa, in a very un-queenly manner, rolled her eyes. “Why don't you tell me something I haven't been told before?”

Hans, once again, grinned like he knew something she didn't. Which he did. “The day of your coronation I wore a magenta cravat because I knew magenta was your favorite color,”

Elsa’s cheeks flushed and she hasn't the foggiest idea why, “Irrelevant?” she barked.

Hans laughed through his nose, “I answered your question, though. Didn't I?” Elsa simply sat far back in her chair and went back to dinner.

* * *

 

“So, I'm not going to be following around your sister all day, waiting for her to ask me to throw myself off a cliff am I?” Hans asked, being led down a palace corridor.

Elsa shook her head, “I'm trying to make sure no one murders anyone else on the property,” she said.

“Anyone else? How many people were murdered here?” Hans asked, his voice a cocktail of appalment, amusement, and curiosity.

Elsa allowed herself a small laugh and fell silent. Hans walked three or four feet behind her on her left. The position parallel to him was filled by Gerda, who for an old woman, walked very steadily and quickly. He was dressed in traditional Arendellian apparel, which dictated that during the summer; cotton and silk were worn in various shades of brown, green, and light blue. Hans’s hand went up to touch the cuff of the olive green shirt he was wearing that was underneath his heavier, outer jacket. It was uniform, Elsa had said, and that he should get used to it. Gerda had helped him dress, being handsy with him. His first shock of servant life came with the rough way Gerda shrugged the coat onto him and he realized, he was truly no longer a prince. Hans thought about this as he followed Elsa down what was quickly becoming the longest hall in the world.

Elsa glanced over her shoulder at Hans, “This corridor is where I have the library, the study, and conference room,” she said plainly. The trio then turned a corner, Elsa and Gerda synchronized, and him very much out of synch. “This is the corridor that takes you to the gardens. Turn right and you'll be led to where Kristoff and Sven sleep,” Elsa pointed a finger up the left, “Anna and I sleep here,” Hans eyes drifted down the hall. “Now,” Elsa placed her hands on her hips, “Gerda and Kai will be here to help, but they have their own responsibilities to tend to, so don't rely on them,” Elsa crossed her arms, “I expect you to take this seriously and not disappoint me,”

Hans lukewarmly saluted her, “Don't worry Your Majesty, I often exceed expectations,” Elsa managed to resist rolling her eyes and turned, “Well, since you're so confident, come. Kristoff would live to have a word with you,”

Hans cringed.

* * *

 

“Okay, I think he's scared, but you're not actually going to touch him right. Because….he sort of has diplomatic immunity. Not that he knows that, but still,” Elsa said in a hushed whisper.

In the palace gardens, Elsa was conspiring with Kristoff. Hans stood by, looking as if nothing was wrong. But Elsa could see past his facade just enough to know he was rattled.

Kristoff smirked, “Elsie, I'm not gonna hurt him. Contrary to popular belief, I'm not that stupid,” Sven, who was keeping himself busy at the water trough, huff in agreement from afar. Elsa waved to the reindeer and then looked back at her sister’s betrothed.

“Okay, I'll wave him over then. Remember just like we planned,” Elsa said.

Kristoff winked then set his face into a scowl that would frighten her if she hadn't known him as well as she did. He fixed his eyes onto Hans’s and the redheaded foreigner braced himself. “You,” Kristoff stepped around Elsa and charged right up to Hans.

The smaller man stood his ground.

“I've got some business with you, Pal,” Hans swallowed the lump in his throat and put on a brave face.

Kristoff stood, toe to toe with Hans. Elsa for the first time realized how much bigger Kristoff had been. Hans seemed to be dwarfed in Kristoff’s presence, and for a little, Elsa was beginning to get the sense that Hans had not been as dangerous as he'd like to make people believe. “You're lucky The Queen is standing right there, Hans. Otherwise this garden would be a butcher shop,” Kristoff said, his voice a low growl. For emphasis he pointed to his axe where he had left it; stuck into a stump among split logs of wood.

Hans’s eyes darted back and forth from the logs and the larger, angry man before him. He sneered and huffed, like an impetuous little boy. “Where I’m from, we don't threaten people. We raise their kingdoms and grind the remains to dust,” Hans snapped. Elsa raised her brows, surprised, but then again not really.

Kristoff glanced over his shoulder at his queen and smirked once again.

He looked back to Hans, who seemed like he was again his footing around Kristoff. “And it's Prince Hans to you, peasant. Prince Hans of the Southern Isles. And it would behoove you to learn it,” Elsa knew that time of voice. It was the same voice The King of The Southern Isles used when he spoke to his people. Runs in the family, Elsa thought.

Kristoff began to cackle and Hans stood there dumbly for a minute. “Pretty Boy is the real deal, Elsie,” he chuckled, “Wow. You had me there for a little. I mean, save the fact that you're not a prince anymore,” Kristoff said, smirking. “Alright, I'm done. I'm taking Anna out sledding. Have fun with Your Royal Highness, The Redheaded Step-Child. If he makes a move, I'll beat him up for you,” Kristoff said, finishing with a bow before his queen. “Majesty,”

Elsa nodded her head, “My Lord,”

Kristoff rose and made eye contact with Hans. “I'm watching you, Friend,” he warned. Hans glared at the larger man, watching the woodsman leave with the reindeer in tow. His eyes drifted back to Elsa’s deep blue ones. In the back of his mind, he really did think the heir was preferable, for more reasons than one.

 _Yes, Queen Elsa is very attractive. But then again, so are you,_ Hans reminded himself.


	2. Nebula and Rocket

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alternate Universe: In which Nebula, Gamora, Groot and Rocket are all humans in a rock band. Rocket owns a gym where Groot and Nebula work. Gamora and Peter are dating and Gamora is trying to hook Nebula up with Peter's half-brother Kraglin or "Glen".

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, here's another update. I know, 2 back to back. I'm an animal. 
> 
> Anyways this a little AU thing I had thought about doing, heavily inspired by Scott Pilgrim's aesthetic, 80s/70s punk bands, and this one gym I used to go to in my home town. As it is now, this is a one shot and all that I've published here is literally all I've written. So if you would like to see it in it's entirety, lemme know. It's a Nebula/Kraglin background, with a focus on Nebula/Rocket. If you'd like more of these guys, I'd also suggest checking out my other fic: I Was Sparing You (shameless plug).
> 
> This one shot is titled, "Bring it Back Home"

“No,” said Nebula. 

“Please,” Gamora pleaded. “I’ve never asked you for anything before,”

“Because I always tell you no,” Nebula replied. “I need you to move,” she said in the same breath. 

Gamora rolled her eyes. Crossing her arms she reluctantly moved out of her sister’s way. Nebula moved past Gamora to re-rack the fallen dumbbells. Gamora pursed her lips as she watched Nebula continue with her task.

“Those guns are getting big. I bet Peter’s brother would agree,” Gamora said.

“I am not going on a double date with you and that idiot and his brother,” Nebula said, lifting a seventy-five pound weight in each hand. “Besides, Rocket wouldn’t let me off for the night either,”

“What if I bribe him,” Gamora proposed. 

“With what? He can get his hands on anything,” Nebula mumbled.

“He’s got to want  _ something _ , in any case he just owns the gym you happen to work at. You’re not an indentured servant or something,” Gamora reasoned, leaning back on the rack. “He’d probably even agree with me that you need to be out more,”

“Well we have band practice too,” Nebula offered.

“Now you’re just making up excuses,” Gamora threw up her hands in exasperation, “Would you just do me this solid? I’ll owe you,”

Nebula paused, her interest was clearly piqued. “What are you offering?”

“What do you want,”

“The car. Three weeks. And I want to play my song next Friday,”

“It’s not a strong enough tune,” Gamora started.

“Sounds like you’ll have a third wheel, then,”

Gamora hummed with annoyance, “He’s not even that bad, Neb. He’s just by himself. He’s really funny-,”

“-On purpose?”

“Well no. But he is. And he’s not bad looking. Maybe not conventionally attractive but he’s got a face you can grow to love,”

Nebula shrugged, “I told you my terms. Take it or leave it.”

Gamora huffed, “Okay fine you can borrow my car. But it’s up to Rocket to let you play your song this Friday,”

“Deal,”

“Deal,” 

“Deal?” said a raspy voice from the back of the gym. “Who’s cuttin’ deals without me?”

Emerged from the office was a man of average height and build. Dressed in shorts and a t-shirt, he crossed the floor from the office to the lifting equipment. His messy hair had told the girls he most likely had fallen asleep in his office again. The dark circles under his eyes seemed to affirm their suspicion.

“Neb’s going with me on a double date this weekend, Rocket” Gamora said.

“With who?” he frowned.

“Peter’s brother,” Nebula chimed in, “Kevin,”

“Glen,” Gamora corrected.

Rocket guffawed at Gamora, “Why? Did she lose a bet?”

“No. I’m just tired of him interrupting my dates all the time. He’s got nothing else better to do than hang around us,”

“Doesn’t he have like a job or something,” Rocket asked, half curious, half confused. 

“He just doesn’t really have many hobbies. I mean he used to go out fishing and stuff with their dad, but you know...now that he’s gone,” Gamora shrugged, “I think he’s just lonely.”

Nebula made a sound of disgust, “Is it too late to renege on our deal?”

“Yes it is,” Gamora affirmed, “We’re gonna go to dinner, then get drinks,’ she continued. 

Nebula fought the urge to roll her eyes, “Riveting,”

“If we’re not too drunk after, we’ll go mini-golfing,” 

“Do you actually enjoy that?”

“No, but Peter does,”

“Fair warning if he’s anything like Quill, I  _ will  _ eat him,” 

Gamora beamed, “That’s the plan.”

Rocket snorted, “Sounds like fun,” 

Rocket looked at the weights left and then at Nebula who was putting them back to where they belonged. “Neb, it’s late. Go home,” 

“Okay, let me finish-,” Nebula said. 

“Don’t sweat it, Sis. I got it,” 

“But your noodle arms,” 

“Wha-? Would you get outta here,” Rocket said, slapping her hands away, “Why I oughta…”

Nebula smirked, setting her last set on the rack before turning towards the office to retrieve her things. “Gamora go start the car,” 


End file.
